


You Can't Do That Right Now

by mandykaysfic



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a shuttle crash, which results in 'no kissing allowed'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Do That Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> Many years ago I answered a challenge: write a sex scene for two involved characters that does not follow the common “kiss lips, tongues duel, touch nipples, kiss/lick nipples, touch sex organs, kiss/lick sex organs, ‘mount me, baby!’ and come together” sex pattern. No kissing allowed, for starters.

Slowly, very slowly Tom raised his head from the control panel. He blinked a few times, hoping that would be enough to clear his blurred vision without actually shaking his head, which was currently pounding in an aggravatingly syncopated rhythm. He probed his forehead with cautious fingers. There was a slightly spongy area over his left eyebrow. He took a brief glance at his fingertips and drew a relieved breath when they came away clean. 

In the co-pilot’s seat, Chakotay stirred. He groaned. “Tom?”

“I’m okay. Got a bit of a headache, but I’m okay. You?” He turned and watched Chakotay ease himself into a sitting position. He too, had sustained contusions to his face, along with other sundry cuts and scrapes but no apparent major injuries. 

“Nothing broken as far as I can tell. I’ll get the medkit.”

Tom started cataloging the damage to the shuttle while he waited. The list turned out to be long and extensive. It was a miracle they had both escaped with only the minor injuries they had. Doubly miraculous, as it turned out, as the medkit had not been restocked and the small amount of charge that remained in the regenerator was enough to heal their respective head injuries and that was all. The main computer was down, the engines were off-line. Fortunately, the planet was M-class and uninhabited, so life-support was not needed and there were no natives to deal with. There was little to do other than wait out the five days until they were due to rendezvous with Voyager. Once they made sure of a source of drinkable water and food, they could survive without the replicators and without completely depleting the emergency supplies. The weather was not the best; there were wild winds and indications of a violent storm over their area developing before too long. Their phasers and tricorders still functioned, so things could have been much worse. 

Eventually it was too cold and dark to continue with what repairs they could make. Ration bars filled only small spaces in empty stomachs, so the weary men wrapped themselves in the thermal blankets from the survival kit, kissed perfunctorily and lay huddled together, saying little as they listened to the howling winds until they fell asleep.

 

Chakotay woke first. A deep-seated ache in his lower back worked in conjunction with a full bladder and forced him to move. A pain-filled moan involuntarily escaped his lips when he straightened his legs, but thankfully Tom barely stirred. He maneuvered carefully from the lower bunk into which they’d squeezed, and tucked the blanket more firmly around Tom when it became obvious he wasn’t ready to waken. He brushed his hand lightly over the hair that dirt made seem more brown than blond and then with his other hand pressed to the small of his back, slowly got the day underway. 

Outside, the storm still raged. Rain continued to fall heavily in bursts of twenty minutes or so, and then taper off to light showers. The wind did not let up and the howling only added to the dreary atmosphere. It remained dark as black clouds scudded across the sky. It was obvious they would not be going out any time soon.

A touch on his shoulder jerked Chakotay out of his contemplation of the burned out control panels. “Pretty bad, huh?” Warm breath tickled his ear.

“Yeah. I think it looks worse than it did last night.”

“We’ll be able to send the buoy when there’s a break in the weather. Then they’ll know what to expect when we’re not at the rendezvous point.” 

Chakotay contented himself with a grunt for a reply. He knew Tom was trying to reassure himself as much as Chakotay when he stated the obvious. “Are you ready for breakfast?” Food was as much a comfort as a necessity just now and even the ubiquitous ration bar would accomplish that. 

“Sure. C’mon. I’ll cook first.” Tom grinned as he turned away. If the weather improved before their next meal, Chakotay would have the responsibility of experimenting with the new foodstuffs. Of course, that plan could backfire and Tom would score the preparations for the evening meal, but in the meantime, all he had to do was retrieve a couple more of the foil-wrapped packages and breakfast would be ready. “Whose idea was it to wire the galley facilities into the main computer anyway? An independent system might have left us with a functioning replicator.” Tom poked at a panel and was rewarded with a shower of sparks. He cursed and jumped back, and then swore even more colorfully as his left shoulder muscles seized. “I am going to personally kill whoever was responsible for not restocking the medkit.”

Chakotay agreed and made a mental note to track down and reprimand the culprit himself, then bit back a laugh as Tom continued with a litany of complaints against shuttle designers who didn’t take into account total systems failure after crashes. 

~

By late afternoon the storm showed little sign of abating. Hours of work had achieved little in the way of repairs. They had however managed to collect several containers of rain water. The ratio of the various minerals it contained was slightly different to anything they’d had before, but the tricorder confirmed it was safe for internal consumption and external use and both men looked forward to washing. Tom calculated the amount he would need to was his hair as well as everything else and sighed regretfully when he realized his share of the water would not be enough. He wondered if Chakotay, who had taken possession of the small bathroom first, would use all of his allowance. Unlike Tom, he didn’t need to wash his hair on a daily basis, although Tom conceded the dust and debris from the accident meant they both needed the shampoo. A good brushing would have to suffice. He ran his hand over his face. His lower lip tingled and he brushed it carefully with a fingertip. The tingle became a burn and he licked his lips before sucking the bottom one into his mouth. He poked at it a little more firmly with his tongue before letting it slide out, gently rubbing against his top teeth. He frowned, and then hurriedly rearranged his features to a smile when he heard the bathroom door open.

“Your turn,” said Chakotay cheerfully. “Don’t be too long, hmm?” He patted Tom’s backside as he passed. 

Tom watched fondly as Chakotay shrugged on the jacket it was too cold to be without, wincing sympathetically when he caught a glimpse of a dark bruise that marred the normally blemish-free skin of his lover’s shoulder. He picked up his water ration, clean uniform and toiletries. Once in the bathroom he dropped his clothes into the unusable shower. He carefully poured half of the water into the sink and absently began his usual routine with his face. The washer grazed over his lower lip and once more it burned. He ignored the splash as the washer dropped into the sink as he leant in close to the mirror and stuck his out his lip. A fluid-filled vesicle seemed to grow larger under his gaze. Tom swore. 

He pawed through his toilet bag, but the small tube of medicated cream the Doctor had given him for emergencies was missing. He cursed again when he pictured it sitting in the bathroom cabinet in their quarters back on Voyager. When the cold sore burned again, Tom thumped his palm down on side of the basin. Fucking herpes, and no way to treat it. Eyes closed and head bent forward, he fought the urge to finger the sore and tried to calm down instead. He jumped when he felt warm hands on his shoulders. 

“What’s up?”

“’vegotafreakingcoldsore.” 

Chakotay turned Tom part way around and pulled him closer. The kiss he tried to place reassuringly on Tom’s jaw missed its target as Tom wrenched his head away.

“I said I’ve got a freaking cold sore.” When Chakotay didn’t respond he continued, “You know - cold sores. Herpes simplex type 1, also known as fever blisters -,” Tom stopped channeling the EMH in lecture mode and finished morosely, “No kissing. I’m contagious.”

“I didn’t know you got fever blisters. You’ve never had them before.” Chakotay turned Tom’s face toward him and stared the large blister on his lower lip and its trail of smaller vesicles that now extended onto his chin.

Tom suffered the examination for a few moments and turned away again. “I have, but there’s usually been a handy regenerator around to deal with them and the Doctor has given me some stuff for emergencies if I can’t get to one straight away.” He sighed. “I should have expected this – stress, trauma, the crash, you know. I…I always seem to get them after shuttle crashes,” he wound down softly.

Chakotay murmured sympathetically went to pick up the washer, only to have his hand slapped away.

“I told you, I’m contagious! I’ve used that thing on my face. You can’t touch my stuff. Sorry, but we will follow the Doc’s quarantine procedures. He’ll make my next fifty shifts in Sickbay impossible if we don’t. Once you’ve got herpes…it’s like the common cold – contagious, manageable and still incurable.”

“How about I bring some more rain water in and we you get cleaned up?” Chakotay held up his hand, staying Tom’s automatic protestation. “I’ll get a separate bowl. I can still do your back, okay? You’ll be fine. Didn’t you say the Doctor has given you some stuff for emergencies?” He paused briefly in the doorway to favor Tom with an enquiring glance although he didn’t wait for the answer.

Tom felt the heat blossom over his cheeks as he called out. “Err…it’s umm…back in our quarters…” An exasperated flurry of ‘tsks’ floated back, and he ruefully quirked his lips at his reflection. The blister stretched painfully and he swore again. He disposed of the potentially contaminated water then reluctantly finished stripping off his clothes. He used the remaining water to start on his legs.

A swirl of dirty particles half filled the basin by the time Chakotay returned holding a container. He balanced it carefully and then picked up a clean dry cloth. Tom stared at the wisps of steam curling into the chilled air and moaned. “God I love you. Have I told you that lately?”

“Yeah, but you can tell me again. Now bend forward.”

“You know, hot water is in my top ten list of favorite things.” Tom arched back into the stream of hot water that ran down the center of his back until it was caught at the level of hips with the washer. “Mmm, yeah, hot water is definitely there,” he continued when the action was repeated. “Along with pizza. Ahh.” He twisted one shoulder back. “And flying, of course.” He turned again for the other shoulder to take its turn under the small shower. “Sailing’s good. Skiing’s good too.” Now the washer was at the nape of his neck. The wet rough cloth felt good on his skin and Chakotay was using just the right amount of pressure on his muscles to relieve the stiffness that had set in. He practically purred as the alternating firmer circular and lighter up and down stokes worked along his shoulders. “Oh, right there. Yesss,” he hissed, and bent forward again. “Tomato soup. Hot, plain tomato soup. Can’t forget that. I could really go for some now.” 

The water temperature was now a little cooler as his flanks were washed. “Days off.” He spread his legs, but the next thing he felt was his towel as it was briskly rubbed over his damp skin and then draped over his shoulders. He welcomed Chakotay pressing in closed behind him. Their eyes caught and held in mirror. It was a while before either blinked as the washer stroked over his neck and down onto his chest. “Sandrine’s,” he rasped. “I like…playing pool…in Sandrine’s.” He had to close his eyes when the scrubby toweling rubbed across his nipples, but they flew open again when Chakotay didn’t linger there. Tom leant back a little and meaningfully pressed his head into Chakotay’s neck and shoulder. He reached behind and groped for a pair of steadying handfuls of ass while he looked at their reflection from beneath lowered lids. He couldn’t smile in response to the tiny smirk that curled Chakotay’s lips as the washer moved lower; he could only watch his mouth open as he exhaled the shuddering breaths that didn’t seem to contain quite enough oxygen to fill his lungs. 

The sounds of the water in the basin as Chakotay dunked the cloth into the water a few times and wrung it out filled his ears. And then he saw nothing but the brown eyes reflected in the mirror. Felt nothing but the wet toweling on his dick and balls. The curling sensation started in his toes, while deep in his belly a ball of bright energy expanded. “Orgasms,” he ground out. “I. Really. Like. Orgasms.” 

Tremors wracked Tom's body for a moment and he groaned as Chakotay quickly swiped the cloth across then tossed in into the bowl before turning Tom and pulling him in close. He hugged him in return, managing to remember to turn his face away so his mouth wouldn't contact any skin. The sensation of Chakotay's erection pressing into his groin was also something else he really liked and he wriggled around, trying for and getting an answering moan. He moved more deliberately, then grabbed Chakotay's ass once more. He answered the rhythmic humping with a counterpoint pressure of his own until Chakotay cried out his own release.

~

“I don't suppose any of these contain any properties that you could use on your cold sores?”

Tom kept his smile shallow at Chakotay's plaintive question. After three days the vesicles had finally started to scab over, but that meant if they cracked they'd bleed. He'd scanned everything they'd collected with an eye to the same thing himself. “No. Sadly, they are all more closely related to leola root than aloe vera and none of them are particularly high in lysine. We'll just have to wait for Voyager.” He sniggered. “Guess you really miss my smart mouth, huh?”

“You never did tell me what number ten was.”

“What number ten?” Tom let himself be distracted. There would be plenty of other opportunities to tease Chakotay.

“You know, your top ten list of favorite things.”

Tom stared blankly.

“Hot water, pizza, tomato soup...”

“Hot 'plain' tomato soup, thank you!”

“Skiing, sailing,” Chakotay continued helpfully.

“I really do like skiing,” said Tom contemplatively.

“Days off?”

“Days off are good for sleeping in, amongst other things.”

“Like...”

“Like playing pool in Sandrine's. And skiing and sailing.” He never had to wait long for more chances to indulge in a little harmless teasing. “Of course, they're good for orgasms too.” He paused. “Let me see, you're right - that is nine, and I hasten to add they are in no particular order and subject to change without notice.” He picked up something else that looked suspiciously like yet another second cousin to leola root and passed his tricorder over it. He sighed. It was. “Maybe it won't taste quite as bad. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the last thing on my top ten list of favorites.” For a moment Tom debated whether to pretend it was Voyager, but he'd gone far enough this time. “Well, occupying place number one, each and every time, is you!”

END


End file.
